Dead Hearts
by rebekah.joy
Summary: Daughter. Sister. Trainee. Friend. Lover. Tribute. Career. Victor. Teacher. Mentor. Mother. Rebel. There are two sides to every story. This is mine. Sequel to Seventy One Years.
1. Dead Hearts

_I could say it, but you won't believe me_  
_You say you do, but you don't deceive me_  
_It's hard to know they're out there_  
_It's hard to know that you still care_  
_I could say it but you wont believe me_  
_You say you do but you don't deceive me_  
_Dead hearts are everywhere_  
_Dead hearts are everywhere_

* * *

I'm tracing circles on Tero's bare chest when the sharp knocks fill the silent room. I know who it is and I know that I only have a matter of time before they will have broken down the door, stormed up the staircase and put a bullet through Tero's head before taking me hostage.

I could run. God knows I could send knives into their hearts before they could open their mouths to tell me that I am under arrest. I have options, I know I do. This is what is best, though. Without another thought, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and cross the room to Clio's crib. Her face is so peaceful while she sleeps. I lean down and kiss her forehead before turning back to Tero.

He is in deep sleep. I slipped sleep syrup into the wine he drank late last night. I knew they would come for me today. I also knew that if not sedated, Tero would fight against them, probably resulting in the death of all three of us. I couldn't let that happen.

I kiss Tero one last time and quietly make my way downstairs. With a deep breath, I open the door.

"Miss Audrina Prescott? Under the orders of President Coriolanus Snow you are hereby under arrest for conspiracy against the government of Panem and therefore treason against the President himself."

"I know." I respond gently, offering up my wrists. They are taken by surprise, but they quickly recover and clasp the cool silver around my arms.

"Is there anyone else in this house that we should be aware of?"

I keep my face calm and devoid of all emotion.

"No. It's just me. Everyone who's ever mattered is already dead. They're just waiting for me to join them."

* * *

"Are you a spy for the rebel forces, Audrina Prescott?"

"I am." I answer in a monotone voice. We've been at this for days, and they can't seem to grasp the fact that they cannot break me.

"Do you have any information on their whereabouts?"

"No."

"What are their attack plans?"

"I have no idea."

"Where are Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark?"

"Safe from you."

This seems to anger them, and I expect it. Electricity surges through my body, making my hair stand on end. It feels as if there is fire running through my veins, and maybe there is. I do not blink an eye though. I do not scream. Pain no longer fazes me. Don't they know that? Don't they know where I come from? Haven't they seen my Games?

"That's really the best you've got?" I ask, my bitter laugh filling the room.

* * *

"Today's the day, Prescott." A Peacekeeper says as he unlocks my cell and tosses me a clean pair of clothes.

"Finally, you victors are going to get what you've had coming since the day they pulled your name out of that ball."

I smirk at him and pull the grimy clothes off of my body before replacing them with the clean ones.

"Don't forget that you come from the same place we do." I say, knowing that he is from my District. The fact that Peacekeepers are from Two is about as much of a secret as our Training Center.

His tough facade falters for a brief second before he composes himself and grabs me roughly by the arm, dragging me out of the cell.

* * *

"We gather here today to witness the public executions of these past victors of the Hunger Games. Each and every one of these individuals has been tried and found guilty of participating in the rebellion, conspiracy and treason. Each of them has been sentenced to hang by the neck until death."

With that, the crowd cheers in appreciation of President Snow and the fact that he is cleansing our country of terrible people like us. The Peacekeepers step forward and place the nooses around our necks. To my right is Infinity de Wolfe. I know because she mentored Roman. To my left is Crimson Swenson, a mentor and trainer from my District. She gives me a sad smile and reaches across to take my hand, giving it a squeeze.

Trumpets sound and the anthem begins to play. I expected my life to flash before my eyes, but it doesn't. Not really. Not in the good way, where I can remember hot summer nights with Clove, pillow fights in my house in Victor's village, my last few happy moments with Crisis, the feeling when Clio was born, heart to hearts with Enobaria. No, now I can see the faces of those I will soon be reunited with. I see the nameless faces from District Three, my first kills in the Games. I see Crisis, and how much he loved me, though he never really got to say it. I see Roman and Celeste, and the homes they never got to return to. I see Clove, and her bleeding skull as she suffered the same fate as Roman did at my hands. I see Cato's tears as he holds her body and begs her to come back. I see Katniss Everdeen as she sends her last arrow into Cato's heart as he begged for his death, to finally be reunited with Clove and Crisis. It was in that moment, I realized that I had never felt so much respect for a person. That girl, who was brave enough to put an end to all of this suffering. The girl who stood up and said it was wrong. The girl who felt for Cato, and only wanted for him to feel no pain, even though he was determined to kill her. The girl who showed more courage in those few seconds than I had shown in my entire life.

I think about my decision to join the rebellion, and how it was Clio who ultimately convinced me.

I think of Clio, and how I hope that she will grow up in a world devoid of this cruelty. My daughter who is still so good and innocent. Who will never have to be sent to a Training Center. Who will never know how to feel such hatred and how to kill without mercy. Who will never be forced to see all of the horrors that her mother has done.

I am a Career. You are raised to hate me just as I am raised to kill you. I am the monster. I am the murderer.

I am a victor. I killed innocent children to save my own life. I am heartless. I am unforgivable.

A wise man once said that there are two sides to every story. I am Audrina Prescott. Trainee. Career. Tribute. Victor. Mentor. Rebel. This is my side.

* * *

_They were kids that I once knew_  
_They were kids that I once knew_  
_Now they're all dead hearts to you_


	2. Somebody That I Used To Know

_You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness  
Like resignation to the end, always the end  
So when we found that we could not make sense  
Well you said that we would still be friends  
But I'll admit that I was glad it was over_

* * *

"Hey there, pretty girl."

Cato pokes his head in the door of my bedroom. I have no idea how he managed to find his way to my new house, but I don't have it in me to ask. He is the first person to come see me. I must admit, I kind of wish it had been someone else, but after four lonely days without visitors, I'll take what I can get.

He steps in the room all the way and closes the door behind him. Approaching my bed, he motions for me to move over and sits down next to me, leaning back against my headboard. I'm curled in the fetal position under a heavy down blanket despite the fact that it's nearing one hundred degrees outside. It doesn't matter to me, I have air conditioning now. Not that I can even begin to explain what it is, but it makes my house frigid cold and I have enough money to pay for it.

"You really do look much prettier now. Those surgeons must have known what they were doing, considering the horrible mess you were."

His voice is dripping with sarcasm and I know he doesn't mean anything by it, except to maybe get a rise out of me. I don't care though. Nothing seems to matter.

Cato sighs and moves so that he is laying down next to me, staring directly into my eyes. We're silent for awhile, and then he finally speaks.

"Icarus says they're burning his body tonight. I know you want to go say goodbye. You need closure."

He's right, of course. But I don't acknowledge it.

"Where's Clo?" I ask softly, and Cato's eyes shift uncomfortably.

"She's okay. In training with Enobaria right now, I believe."

"You know that's not what I mean."

Cato looks away again, torn between betraying his lover and lying to the best friend he almost lost. After a moment's hesitation he chooses me.

"Just give her time. She'll come around, I know she will. She's just scared."

I laugh bitterly, "She doesn't really have much of a reason to be scared."

Cato is silent, his blue eyes never leaving mine.

"She didn't see the Games as a big deal until someone she loved was forced in them. None of us did, really. Before this they were all nameless faces getting slaughtered. Then it was you and-"

He pauses and clears his throat, his eyes shifting away from mine, "You and Crisis. And we knew that best case scenario, we'd still lose one of you. Now she's terrified. She knows that each of us face an equal chance of going in. She's scared to see you because she knows that they've changed you. But I _promise_ she misses you. She loves you, and she cried every night of the Games. She barely slept and she started missing targets in training..."

I give him a look and we both burst into laughter.

"Nice try, but you're a terrible liar. Prescotts never miss." I say, pushing his shoulder.

He winks and pushes me back, "Well you certainly proved that, didn't you?"

My smile fades and I shrug.

"Sorry." Cato offers, giving me his boyish smile that he hardly lets anyone see, and all is forgiven.

I nod, and we both return to laying on our backs, staring up at the twelve foot ceiling without a word.

* * *

It takes a hell of a lot of convincing on Cato's part, but a few hours later I am dressed in my usual black get up: leggings, combat boots and a loose fitting long sleeve shirt. Cato walks me to Icarus's office and grabs my shoulders.

"You can do this, okay? You're a victor, you can do anything."

I nod, willing myself to believe him. He pulls me into a tight hug and kisses the top of my head.

"Here." Cato pulls a knife from his belt and discreetly presses it into my hand before turning and walking down the hall. I smile to myself as I see a pair of young children turn and run in the opposite direction when they see him headed their way. Even at fifteen, Cato has established a reputation as one of the most feared Trainees.

I turn back to Icarus's heavy wooden door and take a deep breath. I tighten my hand around my knife and turn the door handle. Icarus looks up from his desk and removes his glasses, raising his cold grey eyes to meet mine.

Icarus Brazier has owned the Training Center for as long as I can remember. Even in his late 60s, he demands respect and obedience, and will not hesitate to destroy anyone who refuses to give it to him.

"Good afternoon, Miss Prescott."

I nod my head slightly and step toward him. He motions to the seat opposite him but I shake my head slightly.

"I won't be long."

"Very well, what is it that I can do for you?" He asks, folding his hands in front of him.

"Three things. After all you people put me through, after all I did to bring more money to this place, you owe me at least that much."

Icarus purses his lips in protest, but he does not speak. I take it as a sign to continue.

"I want you to excuse Cato, Clove, Tero, Ivy, Isobel and Gaven from their classes tonight so they can come to the crematorium with me. Crisis was their friend too."

He gives me a slight nod and I relax slightly, quickly gaining more and more confidence.

"I want to train Cato. Enobaria can handle my sister. Cato is strong, I understand that. Brutus has trained him well. He is absolute shit with long distance weapons though. The only thing you've ever allowed him to use is a sword. I'm a victor now, which means I'm a trainer. I choose Cato."

"And the last request?" Icarus asks impatiently, glancing at his diamond encrusted watch.

"My house. I want my sister to move in with me. Cato too, as well as the other four. A victor's home is meant to be shared with their families, and they are all I have left. I won't take no for an answer."

With that, I turn on my heel and prepare to storm out of the room.

"I don't believe I ever said you had any choice in the matter, Audrina. Remember that I still own you."

Red hot anger shoots through me and I pull Cato's knife from my belt in a swift motion and send it flying towards Icarus. As intended, it sticks itself into his leather chair, just centimeters away from his head.

"I'm done being owned by you. I'm not letting you hurt me anymore."

I slam the door behind me before he can tell me all of the ways in which he can indeed hurt me.

* * *

"Just a few more minutes," I say, pleading to the mortician. "Just give them a little more time, I know they'll show up."

"You have five mi-"

As if on cue, the door to the crematorium opens and Cato walks in.

"Anyone else coming?" I ask him tiredly. I know I should be irritated, but at this point I don't even care.

"I don't think so," he says, shaking his head sadly.

I exhale and shrug, giving him a small smile, "Well I guess he meant the most to us, didn't he?"

Cato nods and fixates his eyes on the elaborate wooden coffin.

"Are you ready?" The mortician asks, snapping rubber gloves onto his hands before unlocking the coffin.

Cato and I nod, and he lifts the lid of the coffin slowly. My hand raises to my mouth as I fight to hold back my tears and Cato wraps his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder.

"He doesn't look as bad as I expected." Cato muses, and he's right. They've cleaned him and clothed him, masking his protruding bones and ugly stab wounds and burn scars. Despite his chalky pale skin and blue lips, he almost looks like he is only sleeping.

I nod in agreement, brushing his hair back with my fingers as I did in the arena.

"He doesn't look half as bad as the guy who killed him." I say with a small smile. If there was one kill that I would never regret for as long as I lived, it was Noah Cooley from District Seven.

I lean down and brush my lips against Crisis's one last time before stepping back to Cato, who wraps his arms around me in a bone crushing hug. I don't care though, I need the pain. I need to remember that I am alive for a reason. It was Crisis's sacrifice that allowed me to win, and that would not be taken for granted.

The mortician takes this as a sign to begin, and with the help of his assistant, he lifts Crisis's body from the ornate Capitol coffin and into the cremator. The metal door is shut with a loud thud and the flames engulf him immediately. Tears spring to my eyes at the sight of it and part of me wants to scream.

_You didn't give me enough time with him! I barely got to say goodbye! You didn't ask if I was ready!_

Cato seems to understand and he leans down to whisper in my ear, "Ripping off the bandaid, Audrina. The quicker it is, the less painful."

I nod and continue to let the tears stream down my face, eyes fixated on the orange flames. I'm so distracted that I hardly notice when Clove appears on the opposite side of me, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist and resting her head on my chest, just as she did when she was younger.

"I'm so sorry, Drina." She whispers, and I nod.

Soon, Tero is there. He kisses the top of my forehead. Then Isobel and Ivy come with Gaven, who each hug me and stand by my side. The flames eventually stop and the morticians begin to clean up. I can't make myself move, and no one forces me.

I won't let go of Clove's hand, and Cato makes no effort to pull his arms away. They must understand how much I need them. My tears show no signs of stopping, and all I can think about is everything that has happened in the past two weeks.

When the Games began, how badly I wanted to kill Crisis. Then when we reached the Capitol, how I took advantage of the fact that he was in my bedroom every night. The euphoria of my first two kills. The heartbreak of losing Crisis and the satisfaction of cutting out Noah's heart. The mixed emotions as I killed Celeste and the reluctance to smash open Roman's skull. The panic when I woke up in the Capitol. My argument with Mal, and everything Enobaria told me.

She said it would never get better. I didn't doubt her for a second. But now, surrounded by my sister and my best friends, I'm beginning to wonder if maybe she was wrong.

* * *

_But you didn't have to cut me off_  
_Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing_  
_And I don't even need your love_  
_But you treat me like a stranger and I feel so rough_  
_No you didn't have to stoop so low_  
_Have your friends collect your records and then change your number_  
_I guess that I don't need that though_  
_Now you're just somebody that I used to know_

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! So this is my new story about Audrina Prescott, victor of the 71st Hunger Games. If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste's Story  
**

**Also, if you have a tribute in my second SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story. I've also decided that I'm not going to post the first chapter of that until everyone sends in the first and second sets of votes, and only about half of you have gotten them in so far.**


	3. National Anthem

_It's a love story for the new age, for the six page  
Want a quick, sick rampage?  
Wining and dining, drinking and driving  
Excessive buying, overdose and dying  
On our drugs and our love  
And our dreams and our rage  
Blurring the lines between real and the fake  
Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me  
He will do very well  
I can tell, I can tell  
Keep me safe in his bell tower hotel_

* * *

"Oh my god, you actually are terrible." Clove marvels, leaning against the doorway to our training room as she watches Cato's futile attempts to hit the target with one of the several knives at his feet.

I smirk at Cato and join Clove in taunting him, "I told you she would never be impressed."

I turn back to the target and laugh at the fact that only three knives are sticking into it, none of them within five inches of the center. My eyes lower to the ground, where the remainder of the knives lay. I can tell Cato is becoming irritated with his persistent failure. He reaches down and picks up one of the last few knives, holding it by the blade like I showed him, he hurls it toward the target. It spins several times in the air before smacking the wall behind the target and falling to the ground. He lets out a grunt of frustration and picks up the last knife before turning around and throwing it toward Clove. She expects it though, and reaches up one of her tiny hands, catching the knife by the blade and throwing it back. It flies past Cato and lodges itself into the bullseye of the target.

She smiles and lifts her hand to her mouth, sucking the blood from the tiny cut she got when she caught the knife. Cato stares from Clove to the target in disbelief. Clove laughs, stepping away from the doorway, and snakes her arms around Cato's waist. She is tiny, easily two feet shorter than him. I watch his face closely, and all anger and frustration seems to melt away. He leans down to kiss the top of her forehead.

Even before our lives turned to hell, even when Crisis and I were sick, twisted little kids, always trying to kill each other, these two were never like us. Clove would tease Cato and push his buttons, but whenever he got hurt in a fight, she was always the one holding his hand in the hospital. They were hostile and lethal to everyone else, but to each other and around us, it's hard to believe either of them would ever hurt a fly.

"You better hope you never go in the arena against her, Rovati." Icarus's voice sends chills through the room, and as he steps from the shadows, the smiles fade from our faces and our eyes turn to ice.

"It's a shame really. You're the strongest male in your level, and this little twelve year old could kill you before you even knew what hit you."

"I could kill her too, Icarus. Maybe not with knives, but there are other ways."

Clove shudders at his words and I pretend not to notice, averting my gaze to the floor.

"But you wouldn't." Icarus stares through Cato, daring him to argue, to disagree. Daring him to speak another word and face the consequences.

Cato only nods, for once knowing how to bite his tongue. He lowers his eyes and tightens his hold on Clove.

"Very well. You two, clean this mess up. Audrina, may I have a word?"

I follow Icarus into the hallway and shut the door behind me and leaning against it, knowing very well that Cato and Clove are on the other side with their ears pressed against it. Our childish habits have yet to fade.

"I don't see much of an improvement in Cato's knife throwing."

I roll my eyes. Is this really what he wants to complain about right now?

"I've been training him for three hours so far, Icarus. And don't talk about his ability to kill my sister, you're only going to distract him."

Icarus growls under his breath, "His love for her makes him weak."

"No, it doesn't. Cato is willing to do anything for her. She is the reason he is as strong as he is. Without her, his determination to win wouldn't even be close to where it is now."

Icarus refuses to challenge me, though his eyes burn with resent and I know I am walking on thin ice.

"I have no time to argue with you. Inform your friends that they have the rest of the afternoon off to move their things into your house, but they will have to spend four extra hours in training tomorrow. I expect you to teach their class."

"Yes, sir." I say, watching him walk away. I wait for him to turn the corner before I throw the door open, knocking Cato to the floor. As expected, Clove was smart enough to step away before the door could hit her. She's standing on the other side of the room, doubled over in laughter as Cato is sprawled on the floor, clutching his nose, which is now gushing blood.

I can't help but think that Icarus is right, Cato would be completely fucked if he ended up in the arena with Clove. I sit on the floor next to Cato and Clove walks over and joins us.

"So we get to move in?" Cato mumbles, peeling off his black t-shirt and holding it to his bleeding nose. I don't miss the way Clove's eyes ignite at the sight of his bare chest.

"Yeah, you get to move in. Icarus finally realized what was good for him and gave me what I wanted before he ended up with a dagger in his skull."

I glance over at the mess of knives left abandoned.

"Should we clean up?" I ask Clove and Cato, who both shake their heads in response.

"Nah, we'll just be in this room again tomorrow. There's no point." Clove says, standing up. Cato and I follow suit and we leave, slamming the door behind us.

* * *

"I think we should celebrate." Tero says with a playful gleam in his eye as he dumps the few boxes containing his belongings onto his new bed.

I smirk at him from the doorway, "Oh really? How so?"

A wide grin spreads across his face and twenty minutes later I find myself walking down the middle of South Street, District Two's open air market. The scent of savory food fills my nostrils. Tero and I are both in awe at the amount of food here: fruit and vegetables of every color, dry pasta, spices, fresh baked bread. Neither of us have ever been allowed to come here before. In fact, besides the Square and Victor's Village, neither of us have ever seen much of our district at all.

"There's so much food here." I say, not knowing where to start.

"Well now that you have all this money and nothing to do with it, why not feed the less fortunate? Like me!" Tero jokes, elbowing me in the ribs.

I smile and push him back before wrapping my arms around myself, hugging my leather jacket tighter against me. We wander through the various booths, trying different fruits and nuts that we have never heard of. We end up purchasing loads of alcohol, a few loaves of bread, fruit and vegetables and something called pizza. The vendor let us try samples and told us that the recipe was ancient, that it originated long before the Dark Days, and that it had been handed down for generations in his family. I'm amazed at how good it tastes; bread with zesty tomato sauce, melted cheese and different types of meat and vegetables on top. Tero and I decide to bring more home for the others to try.

Once our arms are so full of bags that we can't possibly carry anymore, we head back to the house. We walk almost the whole way without speaking, for which I am grateful. I have never been uncomfortable around Tero.

"How have you been, Drina?" He asks as we approach the house, breaking the silence.

"Fine." I answer with a smile, I honestly have nothing else to say.

Tero looks doubtful, but he doesn't press. We pause in front of the door before going inside.

"Alright, well make sure you let me know if you need anything. I got your back."

"I know you do."

He opens the door for me and we both step inside. Gaven, Ivy and Isobel are lounging on the couch, flipping through channels on the television.

"Anything good on?" Tero yells toward them.

"Nope!" Ivy yells back, "Same Capitol shit as always. Caesar's talk show, newscasts, reruns of the Games."

"There's Games reruns on and you're calling them shit?" Tero asks, feigning disbelief. "What kind of Trainee are you?"

Regardless, he dumps his bags on the counter and goes to join them as they watch the final showdown of the 43rd Hunger Games, which took place in a Savanna. Beryl, the victor, was from our district. Apparently he ended up overdosing on morphling a few years after his victory. Either that or he pissed off President Snow.

The idea of watching Games reruns makes me nauseous, so I busy myself with putting our recently purchased food away. I leave out the pizza and drinks, and pull down plates and glasses from the cupboards.

"So, are we partying hard tonight or what?" Cato asks, and I nearly drop the stack of plates I am holding.

"God, Cato. Don't do that to me! You're lucky I don't have a knife on me."

He steps forward and takes the plates from my hands.

"You know, in the arena, it was dead silent all the time. In the cave part, every noise echoed so it was impossible for anyone to effectively sneak up on you."

Several seconds of silence pass, and I stare forward. But it is not the pale yellow walls of the kitchen that I am seeing. It is the damp cave wall, covered in vines and moss.

"Audrina?" Cato asks.

I quickly snap back, "Yeah? Sorry."

"You okay? Your eyes got all glassy and-"

"I know. Sorry. Just ignore me if it happens again. Sometimes I'm just reminded and I can't help it."

Cato nods and begins opening the bottles and pouring the cold, clear liquid into glasses. I grab a half empty bottle from his hands and lift it to my lips, letting the liquid scorch its way down my throat and burn away any leftover memories of the arena that are still hovering in my mind.

"Woah slow down, killer."

I smirk at him and slam the bottle down on the counter, trying not to let my old nickname bother me. I'm done letting the Games interfere with everything that used to be normal to me. I decide then that I'm not letting them change me any more than they already have.

"Where's Clo?" I ask, noting that my voice is louder and my I'm already feeling the effects of the liquor. Good. It's working.

"She's... upstairs." Cato says, giving me a knowing look.

"Ah," I say, understanding. I grab an unopened bottle and a few glasses and start toward the living room.

"Nothing else to say about that?" Cato asks and I turn around to face him. "No teasing like you used to?"

I shake my head and give him a wide smile, "Nope! Just have fun and don't break any of my new furniture. It's _mahogany_, you know."

I wink, giving him my best impression of a Capitol accent, which, even combined with alcohol, is still pretty terrible. Cato smiles and bites his lip before grabbing a bottle of wine and heading back up the stairs.

* * *

A few hours later my house is a disaster. I, however, do not have it in me to care. Plates are abandoned all over the living room. Empty bottles cover the floors. We have long since given up on the glasses.

Gaven has disappeared to his room with both Ivy and Isobel. From where I am sitting I can see Clove sitting on the counter clad in nothing but a bra and underwear, her long dark hair spilling over her pale shoulders. Cato is seated on one of the barstools pouring a little bit of alcohol from each bottle into tiny cups. After he finishes making a new concoction, he and Clove touch their cups together and drink it in one swallow, fighting hard to force it down. They make weird faces at each other as they drink each new mixture and end up in fits of laughter before repeating the process all over again.

I rarely think about how young Clove actually is. I suppose when I do, it's hard to believe that the seemingly innocent, little girl who had tears in her eyes from laughing so hard this afternoon is the same girl that I see now; scandalously dressed and shamelessly getting wasted in my kitchen, much less the girl who will throw one of her knives into your chest in the blink of an eye. It should probably bother me, but it doesn't. It's always been this way. Clove has done everything with us ever since we both arrived here five years ago, it's only natural that she is behaving this way now. At least she only sticks to one guy, unlike Isobel and Ivy.

I roll my eyes and turn my attention back to the television, where Caesar Flickerman is discussing the new up and coming styles of this season, which obviously reflect on several of the styles seen during the Tribute Parade and interviews. In fact, the leading trend is tight black leather. Sure enough, a picture of Crisis and I flashes across the screen moments later. I grab the remote control in frustration and turn it off, before getting to my feet and stumbling into the backyard.

Tero is there, dangling his bare feet into the pool that I did not know existed until now.

"Hey," I say sitting next to him and plunging my feet into the cool water. I realize now that I seem to have lost my leggings, boots and jacket sometime over the course of the night, and I am now only wearing boyshorts and a loose black tank top. No wonder Clove acts how the does, I've never been one to be a positive influence.

Tero wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, offering me the bottle of red wine he is holding in his left hand.

I laugh and try to push it away, "The last thing I need is more wine."

Tero shakes his head, "Yeah you do. You need it."

He presses the bottle into my hand more firmly, and this time I take it. My mind is fuzzy and uncomfortable, but I don't mind. If I can't think straight, I won't be able to remember. I take another swig from the bottle and pass it back to Tero. He does the same and hands it back to me. We do this until the bottle is empty and we are both falling over each other in drunken laughter.

Tero tries to stand and help me to my feet but he loses his footing and ends up falling into the pool. I burst into laughter when he resurfaces and he swims toward me, grabbing my feet and pulling me in after him.

The cold water brings me to my senses, but only a little. Tero is leaning against the wall of the pool, arms crossed, watching me closely. I swim over to him and wrap my arms around his neck. He hands find my hips and he pulls me closer to him before brushing his lips against mine.

"Tero..."

"Mhm?" He tightens his hold on me and I bury my face into his shoulder.

"Remember how you said to tell you if I need anything?"

"Yeah."

My mind is screaming that this is a bad idea, but I can't make myself stop.

"I need something."

Tero's lips find my neck and travel down to my collarbone and I know that my brain has lost the battle.

"What is it that you need?"

"To forget."

* * *

_Tell me I'm your National Anthem  
Sugar sugar, how now  
Take your body down town  
Red, white, blue's in the sky  
Summer's in the air and  
Baby, heaven's in your eyes_

* * *

**Author's Note: I made a blog for this story! To see names and pictures of all the characters mentioned thus far, go to www . deadheartsnovel . blogspot . com I'll add more characters and more information on them as well as the story progresses!**

**If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste's Story**

**Also, if you have a tribute in my second SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story. I've also decided that I'm not going to post the first chapter of that until everyone sends in the first and second sets of votes, so make sure you get them in, and read this in the meantime!**

**On another note, understand that the themes in this story are going to be a lot different and a lot more mature (though not rated M by any means) than those in my SYOTs. This story is about teenagers who never got to be kids. They're doing things that no kids their age should be doing, but they don't know any better. Just understand that I do realize that these characters are 12-16 years old and I don't condone this behavior in any way shape or form!**


	4. Glitter & Gold

_How high, how low, how on your own  
Are you gonna get?  
Because losing your soul will cost you more  
Than the life you're paying for  
And all those friends you left behind  
You might need 'em when it's cold outside_

* * *

I wake up to the sound of voices. Painfully loud voices. I have a sudden and desperate urge to shove one of my knives down the throat of whoever the voices belong to. I squeeze my eyes shut and pull my pillow over my head but it is no use. Hot anger flashes through me and I throw my blanket aside, swing my bare legs over the edge of the bed and storm to the door. Just as I am about to fling it open I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror.

I'm not wearing much. In fact I'm not wearing anything at all. _Fuck. _I groan and run my fingers through my tangled hair, suddenly becoming aware of the pounding in my head. I step into my gigantic closet and grab the first thing I see; a loose fitting white t-shirt. I carelessly put it on and pull a pair of denim shorts off of another hanger before tugging them on as well. I pull my hair into a messy ponytail and tiptoe down the stairs, careful to remain silent and invisible for the time being.

When I reach the bottom of the stairs I press my back against the wall and peek around the corner inconspicuously. Cato is there, furiously screaming in Tero's face, who screams back with just as much force. Enobaria is sitting at my counter with an amused smile on her face.

"I can't fucking believe you! She's fragile, how could you do that to her? She hasn't even been back for a whole week yet!"

"She's not as fragile as you'd like to believe, Cato. She survived the arena, she's a hell of a lot stronger than all of us. Stop babying her already, she's not yours to take care of!"

Cato is fuming now, blood has risen to his cheeks and I know that if he had a sword or any other reasonably sized weapon on him, Tero would be completely and utterly fucked.

"I'm the only one who's ever fucking taken care of her, Tero! She's like my sister, you know that!"

"Actually I-" Enobaria tries to interject, raising a pointed fingernail. She lowers it though, and brings her steaming beverage to her lips, realizing that to intervene would be futile.

Tero laughs bitterly, "You've got to be shitting me, Cato. You give me hell about sleeping with Audrina? She was _begging_ me for it! You're the one fucking a twelve year old every night. That's _sick. _Don't fucking talk to me about morals."

And so was the straw that broke the camel's back. I round the corner in hopes of ending the argument myself, but it is too late. Cato has knocked Tero off of his feet and now has him at his mercy, letting his fists do the talking as he takes out his anger on Tero's face.

I step into the kitchen and approach Enobaria with wide eyes.

"Just give them a few more seconds to hash it out." She says, glancing at her watch briefly before setting down her mug and calmly walking toward the boys. She uses the tip of her black leather stiletto and pushes Cato off of Tero.

"Get up." Tero starts to protest, but Enobaria flashes him a smile with her fangs, "Please?"

His face blanches in momentary fear and both boys scramble to their feet. When they notice that I am now in the room, they cast their eyes downward, seeming to become extremely concerned about the tile on my kitchen floor.

"Now, I don't have all day, so you listen to me, and listen _well. _I expect you to pass this on to your friends as well."

"Yes ma'am." Cato and Tero both murmur, nodding obediently.

"I don't care what you do with your free time. I don't care how shit faced you decide to get. And I sure as hell don't care that you're all fucking each other. But there are still rules. You will show up to your classes on time, regardless of how bad of a hangover you have. If you show up as much as a second late, you better be _dying_ or already dead, or so help me I will make you wish you were."

She pauses and glares at Cato and Tero, who cower under her scrutiny. It is amazing how they are reduced to small, scared children in her presence.

"If you want to tear each other to pieces, that's fine by me. Just do it outside. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Enobaria." Cato mumbles, still hanging his head.

Enobaria looks at Tero expectantly.

"Y-yes. Yes ma'am."

"Lovely. Now get to class before I decide that you're lives aren't valuable enough to keep around after all."

They don't need to be told twice. Without so much as a glance in my direction both of them run for the door, slamming it shut on their way out.

My head pounds with the noise of the door and Enobaria slides a second mug of steaming hot brown liquid toward me.

"What is this?" I ask warily.

"It's called coffee. It works wonders on hangovers, trust me."

I lift the warm mug to my lips and take a small sip, fighting hard to spit it back out.

"This is terrible!"

Enobaria raises her eyebrow at me, challenging me to disobey her. I sigh in defeat and take another few sips.

"You better drink that entire mug, little girl. You're going to need it. You've got a class to teach in an hour."

With that she grabs her own mug and glides out the door, letting it shut softly behind her. I take a few more gulps of the coffee, letting it burn down my throat. My headache seems to be improving, at least enough that I can stand up without any serious pain. Clutching my cup of coffee in both hands, I walk around my house, surveying the damage.

Broken bottles litter the floor. Abandoned articles of clothing hang from the light fixtures. Deciding that I'm not quite sober enough to handle the mess, I trudge back to the kitchen and down the last of my coffee before grabbing a leftover piece of cold pizza and an apple and heading back up the stairs to my bathroom.

The showers are exact replicas of those that we used during our short stay in the Capitol. There's a pang in my chest as I come to realize that I don't have a memory of these showers that doesn't include Crisis. Before they can creep back into my mind, I slam the bathroom door. I know I will have to face the demons eventually, but it today is not the day. I figure that I'm clean enough, and I vaguely remember being in the pool with Tero last night. That will have to do for now. I finish my pizza and take a huge bite from my apple while I scan the clothing in my closet. I pull out some black leggings and a black tank top and some clean undergarments and get dressed. I finger comb my hair and braid it into my signature fishtail braids. I brush my teeth three times; once for the alcohol, once for the coffee, and once for everywhere else my mouth ended up last night. Fortunately I was too far gone to remember the details.

When I am sure that my appearance is as good as it is ever going to get, I grab a clean pair of socks from one of my drawers and head downstairs in search of my boots. It takes me a good ten minutes to locate them, one is behind the television set, and the other is in the refrigerator. I don't even attempt to work out how it got there.

Before I can decide that there's something else I'm forgetting, I tug on my boots, grab my key and head off to the Training Center.

Victor's Village is only about a half a mile away from the Training Center. The original Victor's Village was located in an elite part of town, and it only had eight houses. After the Center was established, more and more tributes from District Two began to win, and there wasn't enough houses for them. Instead of building more houses in town, the mayor agreed to create an entire new neighborhood of elaborate homes near the Center, so that victors could live close to their workplace.

I set off down the street, thankful for the peace and quiet. The sun has just risen from behind the mountains, creating a soft glow in the air. Even though it is August, the weather is extremely overcast and the air is crisp and cool. I inhale deeply as I walk and let it clear my head.

Before long I am punching in the entry code at the front of the Center. The black iron gates swing open, granting me access. As soon as I am safely inside I hurry toward the room where I am supposed to teach my first class, Level One Knife Throwing. I step into the room and find that all of the young children that are to be my students are wreaking havoc on the place, shouting and chasing each other around with their wooden practice knives.

I wrack my mind for a way to get their attention when the door slams loudly behind me. All of the children freeze and turn toward the door in stunned silence. I whip around angrily, ready to tell off whoever the intruder is, despite the fact that their grand entrance took control of my class before I could. The sharp words that I have prepared do not get a chance to be heard, though. Standing before me is Tero, two sizable bruises forming around his left eye and on his right cheekbone, but he wears them like badges of pride along with his signature smirk.

"Aw, you're all covered up now. Why?"

A growl escapes from my chest and my headache returns with full force. So much for a fresh start.

Apparently Tero and I have very different ideas on how knife throwing should be taught. I believe that they should be taught the proper form before giving it a go with a knife, either real or wooden. Tero thinks that we should give them each a couple of practice knives and a target and let them have at it. The children stare between us with confusion across their faces as we argue.

I stand calm and collected, "My father was a victor, I am a victor. I come from a long line of infamous knife throwers and I haven't missed a target since I was eight."

"Yeah, well I'm older. Overruled." Tero huffs in frustration and throws the box of wooden knives as if to prove his point. He folds his arms across his chest and his lower lip sticks out slightly. Combined with the bruises and the flushed cheeks, he looks rather childish.

"Really? You're not acting like it. Now put these away." I push the box back toward him with the toe of my boot and turn back towards the class.

"I want you all to find a spot in the room away from other people. Spread out so you don't end up getting hit. Wouldn't want to end up with a face like his, right?"

The class erupts in laughter and I smile, turning back to Tero who is still pouting. Finally he decides he has been ridiculed enough and carries the box to the far corner of the room before storming back to the center of the room to stand next to me.

"Find a spot in the room and imagine that it is your target. It's probably best to pick a stationary object, _not _another person. You are nowhere near ready for moving targets."

A couple of the kids groan in protest, but after a few seconds they all have their eyes fixated on some point in the room.

"Good. Now I want you to pretend you have ten knives. You are going to throw your pretend knives at your imaginary target when I say so." I lower my voice and turn to Tero, "Done with your temper tantrum?"

As expected, he doesn't respond, but continues to glare at a spot on the wall.

"Why are you even here?"

"Brutus sent me to _assist_ you."

I curse internally. _Brutus. _Damn him.

"Of course he did. Well, you're going to have to cooperate with me or we're in for a long morning. Watch all the kids and correct their form if you see them doing anything wrong. Make them practice until they're perfect."

He gives me the slightest nod and I turn away, letting the children know that they can begin.

The first hour is painfully slow. Tero insists on complaining and arguing against everything I say. As the time passes, he loosens up, and by the final hour, he is back to being my friend; joking and teasing. All the built up tension between us regarding last night has temporarily melted away.

With only thirty minutes left until it is time to break for lunch, I agree to let the kids play a little game. Tero asks them difficult survival questions about what they would do if they were in certain situations in the arena. They go up two at a time, and if they know the answer, they throw their wooden knife into the foam target. Whoever hits it first gets to answer the question, and if they get it correct, they get another turn.

I opt out of participating and instead decide to busy myself with sharpening the real knives for my afternoon class. I let the tinkering sound of the knives against the sharpening steel soothe me and drown out the questions that Tero is asking. The last thing I need is to be reminded of the arena, not while I am in such a sober and therefore vulnerable state.

An obnoxious bell rings throughout the room, dismissing the children for lunch and Tero collects their knives on the way out. When they are all gone, he shuts the door and brings the box over to where I'm sitting. Without the kids as a bumper between us, the air grows thick with tension and discomfort. After several minutes Tero can't stand it anymore and speaks up.

"I'm sorry, you know."

I lower the knife and steel in my hands raise my eyes to meet his.

"Sorry for what?"

"For taking advantage of you like that. Cato was right, you weren't ready for that. I should have known better and told you no."

Tero's words stun me like a slap to the face and I feel heat rising to my cheeks in anger.

"_Cato_ does not determine whether or not I am ready for anything. Cato does not own me. He does not make my decisions and he sure as hell does not dictate who I spend my time with."

A glimmer of hope shines in Tero's eyes, "Really?"

"Really."

"So... Does that mean you didn't hate it?"

Laughter escapes me before I can stop it and a pained look crosses Tero's features.

"_No._ Of course not! But of all the things, that's what you choose to ask?"

"Fine, it was a stupid question. But if you _didn't _hate it..."

I sigh, knowing that this was coming. I grit my teeth and prepare to get it all out in the open now before anything gets worse.

"Look, Tero. I'm not in love with you. I never will be. I just let Crisis go two days ago, you can't expect me to jump into things with you. You're never going to be what Crisis was to me."

Tero nods in understanding and moves closer to me, lowering his voice into a deep whisper.

"But another Crisis isn't what you want right now, is it?"

_Dammit_. Damn him and how he always seems to know what I want even before I do. I take a deep breath and look him straight in the eye, refusing to let him see me falter.

"I need a distraction. Everything around me reminds me of the arena and I'm fucking sick and tired of it. I haven't even been home for a week and my life already feels like it's crumbling around me."

I wince, pushing away a flashback of the roof of the cave falling on Roman and I.

"I don't know where my life is going. I don't know what's going to happen to me in six weeks, months, or years. All I know is that when I was with you last night, everything felt normal again. That's all I want. I know I'm being naive and stupid, but all I want is to feel normal. If being with you is going to solve my problem, then I'll gladly do it."

Tero is silent for a few moments and hundreds of emotions flash through his eyes. Finally he sticks his hand out toward me, and I take it.

"Deal," he says, giving it a firm shake. "Just call me your own personal problem solver. Though you've got to get Cato to leave my face alone."

"We'll see," I laugh. Tero stands up and helps me to my feet, wrapping one arm around me as we leave the training room.

We stop in front of the cafeteria doors and Tero turns toward me, grabbing my shoulders tightly, a serious look in his eyes.

"How do you feel about playing hooky for the rest of the day?"

I consider it, I have two more classes to teach, not including the extra four hours Icarus assigned to me in exchange for giving us the afternoon off yesterday. I realize how much trouble I could get into by leaving, much less how much trouble Tero would be in. Though, I've never been very good at avoiding trouble. Something about the idea of doing the wrong thing is just so tempting to me.

I lick my lips and nod my head before I even have a chance to consciously make up my mind. A wide grin spreads across Tero's face and he seizes the opportunity before I have a chance to take it back. He grabs my hand and takes off running.

A voice in the back of my mind reminds me that I probably should have asked Tero where we were going before I agreed, or at least ask him now while I still have a chance to turn back. I push the voice away though, realizing that I really don't give a fuck anymore.

* * *

_All that glitter and all that gold_  
_Won't buy you happy_  
_When you've been bought and sold_  
_Riding wild horses, you can't control_  
_With all your glitter_  
_And all of your gold_  
_Take care of your soul_

* * *

**Author's Note: Eh, not my favorite thing I've ever written, but sometimes you need those chapters that build up to something big happening, which will be in Chapter 5!**

**Blog for this story, including character pictures and information: www . deadheartsnovel . blogspot . com **

**If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste's Story**

**If you have a tribute in my SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story. The first chapter of that should be up tomorrow!**


	5. Trouble Is A Friend

_Trouble, he will find you no matter where you go  
No matter if you're fast, no matter if you're slow  
The eye of the storm or the cry in the morn  
You're fine for a while, but you start to lose control_

* * *

It's dark outside when I finally wake up. I groan and throw my arm over my tightly shut eyes, hoping that I can manage to fall back asleep. I'm not ready to wake up and deal with the aftermath of everything I've done. It's no use though, the second that my arm blocks out all the light it is as if I was thrown back into the cave.

_Darkness. Silence. Footsteps. Screams. Blood._

My eyes fly open and I scramble to sit up, my hand coming to my mouth to mask the scream that tries to escape my throat. It comes out as a small squeal instead.

Tero stirs and I wince. I was hoping that I would be able to disappear before he woke up. He sits up and rubs his eyes, giving me an amused smile. I grab my shirt from the foot of the bed and throw it on, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at Tero.

"Stop looking at me like that." I say in an annoyed tone.

Tero looks down and bites his lower lip, making him look young and childlike. My harsh gaze softens and I offer him a small smile. I pick up the rest of my clothes from the floor and tug them on before crawling over to Tero. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face closer to mine. His large hands find my waist and push me backwards so that I am underneath him, each of his knees on either side of my hips. He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose gently. It crosses my mind that I have never seen him act like this before. Part of me appreciates it, but another part wants the harsh and brutal Tero I am used to. The unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling of nerves stirs in my stomach but I ignore it, pushing it away and pulling Tero closer.

"You know, you've really got to stop waking up so angry with me. It's killing my ego." He mumbles as his lips trace my jawline.

"Mmm, your ego could stand to be taken down a few notches." My breath catches in my throat as Tero makes his way down to my neck. "I'm sorry, though. I'll stop being such a bitch."

He lifts his head to meet my eyes and presses his forehead against mine. The look in his eyes is so intense that I feel panic rising in my throat. _No. _I'm not going through this again. _No feelings. No attachments. _I can't do it again.

Tero must see the anxiety in my eyes because he stands up and heads for the bathroom, presumably to take a shower.

"Care to join me?" He asks, winking.

I smile and almost go to him, but something bizarre happens. Instead of seeing tan skinned, dark haired Tero, I see blonde shaggy hair, piercing blue eyes and a twisted, cocky smile. I'm not in Tero's room anymore, but back in my elaborate room at the Capitol. I feel as if I have been punched in the stomach and tears well in my eyes.

"Audrina?" Tero asks, a frown on his face.

I snap back, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking the flashback away.

"Sorry. I'm fine. You go ahead." I turn my back to Tero, avoiding the hurt and rejection that I'm sure is on his face.

I wait until I hear the water running before sitting up. Hot tears stream down my face and I grab the nearest pillow and slam my face into it. I scream into the pillow until my voice is hoarse and I have to come up for air. Suddenly the sheets around me make me feel dirty and I kick them off of me and hug my knees to my chest. It doesn't help. I slide my fingers into my hair and tug as hard as I can, digging my fingernails into my scalp. More tears spill from my eyes and soon I am sobbing. The feeling of filth creeps up on me again and I jump off the bed and cross the room to the opposite wall, sinking to the floor.

I try to calm down, forcing myself to take deep breaths and banishing the remaining tears that have yet to fall. I stand up, deciding that I need to occupy myself to keep the flashbacks at bay. I almost head downstairs to see if we have any alcohol left, but other than the fact that I am almost positive that we finished it all, I think of my headache this morning and know it would probably be a bad idea, no matter how tempting it may be. Scanning the room, my eyes land on the stack of boxes that Tero brought with him from his dorm in the Training Center. I sit down and lift open the first box. Clothes. Boring. I shove it to the side and pick up the second one, which is filled with various personal items.

Having never been inside Tero's dorm, it is the first time I have ever seen any of this. I know that I shouldn't be looking through his stuff, and I know that he'll probably walk out of the bathroom any minute and catch me. Somehow though, these things don't stop me, and the temptation of doing something wrong overpowers them all together. Giving into the voice in my head that tells me to fuck the consequences, I start pulling things from the box.

Some of it makes me smile; pictures of Tero and what I assume to be his little brothers when he was a child, pictures of his parents and his little black and white dog. I vaguely try to remember when Tero came to the Training Center, and come to the conclusion that he must have been here before I arrived. As for the brothers, I've never seen Cato with anyone besides our friends, so they must not be living here. I make a mental note to ask him about his family.

Some of it is just random; a rock, the handle of a broken knife, a circular metal charm with the name Harley engraved on it, which must have belonged to his dog.

I hear the water turn off in the bathroom and start to put the things back in the box when something catches my eye. Furrowing my eyebrows in confusion, I reach into the depths of the box and pull out the small bag sticking out from underneath a book. My eyes widen in shock as I realize what it is. Needles filled with dark liquid, tiny bags of fine white powder, various pills in different shapes and colors.

"What are you doing?" I jump at the sound of Tero's voice and look up to find him standing above me. He's wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, and I try to ignore his taut, tanned muscles and various scars, many of them are a result of my knives. I force myself to look at his face and find that he is looking down at me with crossed arms, pursed lips and eyes filled with anger.

"I-I..." I stutter, struggling for the right words to explain myself, but I'm so caught up in the confusion of my discovery. _Why does Tero have drugs? And where did he get them?_ I feel heat rising to my cheeks as he continues to stare at me, waiting for an answer. Irritated, I decide to turn it around on him.

"What are _you_ doing? Why the hell do you have drugs? Wait- no. Fuck that. Why didn't you bother to tell me that you have drugs? And how did you even get them? Where?"

Tero opens his mouth to defend himself and then closes it again. He uncrosses his arms and runs his fingers through his hair before trying again.

"I honestly do _not_ know how that even got there."

I roll my eyes and stand up so that I am not in such an inferior position. It doesn't help much, considering he is several inches taller than me.

"Oh, fuck you, Tero. Don't give me that shit."

His lie is so terrible, I probably would have burst into laughter if the situation wasn't so tense. He opens his mouth and closes it again, probably deciding that his next excuse is even more bullshit than the first one. Finally he gives up and leans against the wall before sinking to the floor. His head falls into his hands and he tugs on his hair, just as I did a few moments ago. I'm torn between feeling terrible for his obvious inner turmoil or wanting to hit him. How dare he act so upset? He was here, doing God knows what, while I was fighting for my life. He doesn't deserve to act like this.

Unfortunately, the decent side of my personality prevails and I sit down across from him, reaching out to touch his arm.

"You can tell me. We're here for each other, remember?"

"It was _you_. Cato and I... We never intended to use them. But it was hard watching the Games, Audrina. Harder than we thought it would be."

"Wait, _Cato?_"

"It was one time. We promised to never to it again, I just haven't had a chance to get rid of them."

I'm not sure what to make of this. Cato, who has always been the best of all of us, the big brother who protected us and kept us in line, was using drugs with Tero? Because of _me?_ _Why?_ There are hundreds of questions I want to ask Tero, but for some reason, only one seems to matter.

"Well, did it, you know, _help_ at all?" I ask curiously, tilting the needles and watching the thick dark liquid slide back and forth.

"Obviously, Drina. You can't remember anything. None of the bad stuff matters."

_You can't remember anything. _You can forget. _Forget. _No bad stuff. _No flashbacks._

Without giving it another thought I slide the needles from the bag and hold one between my fingers. It would be so easy. _So easy,_ and it would all be gone. No more nightmares, no more memories, no more feelings. Just peaceful oblivion.

"Oh, you are _so_ saying the wrong things to me right now, Tero."

Tero's lifts his head, eyes wide with alarm, "Audrina, what- No!"

But it's too late, I'm too quick for him. Before he can stop me, I have pulled one of the needles out of the bag and shoved it into my right arm, miraculously hitting the vein on my first try. I exhale in ecstasy as the substance flows into my bloodstream, immediately taking effect. I don't know what it is, but it's strong. It's working.

I look up at Tero through half-lidded eyes and toss him one of the remaining needles.

"You just gonna sit there, or we in this together?" I ask in a raspy voice.

"_Fuck, _Audrina... I-"

I can tell he wants so badly to tell me no. He's trying to resist, but the temptation is too strong. I knew it would be. He loses the internal battle against all logic and sinks the needle into his arm.

* * *

The next few weeks pass in a blur. My life has become a repetitive routine: Training. Drugs. Alcohol. Sex. Repeat. I find myself living in a daze. I haven't been in my own room since that first night with Tero. I haven't talked to my sister or our other friends in weeks. Cato keeps trying to talk to me, but I shake him off.

I've heard people talk about me. I've heard them say that my life is falling to shit around me, but I like to think I've conquered some of my demons. I can take showers now. Just not if I'm sober, which is hardly ever.

The day after I ditched classes with Tero, I got an earful from Brutus and Enobaria, which I completely tuned out and blew off, calmly telling them that they could both "do me a favor and stop being such fucking hypocrites" before slamming the door in their faces. I vaguely wondered why Icarus himself didn't talk to me. I found out the reason that he was so preoccupied that night, when Tero came home with bloody gashes covering his back. Good thing we have such a bountiful supply or morphling, among other things.

I can tell people are getting worried, but it doesn't bother me. I simply don't care anymore. I show up to teach my classes on time, but the kids know I don't want to be there.

Ever since Tero and I ditched our afternoon classes, Cato has replaced him as my assistant in the morning Level One class. We speak to each other in short, disengaged sentences. Cato mentions the dark circles under my dilated eyes. He sees how my shirts begin to fall off of my shoulders. He asks me if I'm okay, but I don't answer him. Somewhere deep inside me, it's killing me to feel so distant from my best friend, but it's a small price to pay for being able to forget the Games. He knows something is wrong, I can see it from the worry and hurt in his eyes. I came home one night to find him sitting in the living room with his head in his hands. Clove was next to him, her skinny arms wrapped around his torso as she tried to tell him not to worry. She told him everything would be okay, and that it was just post-Games stress, that I would be back to normal soon. I know he didn't believe her, though. I doubt she even believed herself.

Tero and I disappear every night. We spend much of our time in the back allies of the district, a sketchy place filled with junkies and dealers who make most of their money selling illegal substances to rich, desperate victors like myself. They see our metal identification necklaces from the Center and immediately know not to mess with us. They know how strong we are. They know about the knives safely hidden under our leather jackets. They know how effortless it would be for one of those knives to find it's way into their hearts if they were to ever try anything on us.

One month after my arrival back home, Tero hesitates before swallowing the handful of pills I give him.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Audrina. It's gotten too out of hand."

"Shut up, Tero. It's not out of hand."

His bitter laugh fills the cool night air, "Oh really? And when was the last time either of us slept? Five days? Seven? How about ate actual food? Even more than that, isn't it? I think it's safe to say that we've completely lost control of the situation."

I feel anger boiling inside of me and become defensive.

"Oh, so now you think you're so moral because you know how to stop? Right. Just remember that you're the one who got me into this." I say, shoving the pills in my mouth and washing them down with a swig of white liquor.

"Are you fucking serious, Audrina? You put that needle in your arm, I had nothing to do with it."

"You h-had them in y-your roo-" I don't get to finish my sentence however, as I sink into the now familiar drug induced haze.

"Fuck! Audrina, you've gotta stop this! I almost lost you to the Games, and now that I have you back, I'm sure as hell not going to lose you to this."

Tero curses under his breath and throws the pills over the fence before turning to walk away. He takes a few steps before turning around and walking back to me. My eyes are closing, and the last thing I remember is being lifted into Tero's arms as he whispers in my ear.

_"God, you are so fucking lucky I love you."_

Everything fades to black and I know that I won't remember any of this in the morning.

* * *

_He's there in the dark,  
He's there in my heart  
He waits in the wings,  
He's gotta play a part  
Trouble is a friend, yeah  
Trouble is a friend of mine  
So don't be alarmed if he takes you by the arm  
I won't let him win, but I'm a sucker for his charm  
Trouble is a friend, yeah  
Trouble is a friend of mine_

* * *

**Author's Note: I know these chapters are a lot shorter than 71 Years, but with only one person's point of view, it's easier to make them short, and it lets me update more often!**

**Blog for this story, including character pictures and information: www . deadheartsnovel . blogspot . com**

**If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste DeWynter's Story**

**If you have a tribute in my SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story.**

**Go vote on my new poll, which has to do with this story! And message me if you're interested in bonus points for your tribute in _YBR._**


	6. Circle The Drain

_Thought that I was the exception  
I could rewrite your addiction  
You could've been the greatest,  
But you'd rather get wasted_

* * *

**Audrina Prescott**

"I told you I was done, Audrina. I'm serious. I'm not doing this anymore."

"You're not gonna make it, Tero." I say, surprised at the sympathy in my voice. It's been forty eight hours since Tero has taken anything, and it's beginning to take its toll.

Sweat drips from every pore, plastering his dark hair to his forehead. His arms are wrapped around himself in attempt to stop the shaking.

Seeing him like this, dealing with the withdrawal, I know I won't be able to stop. I can't endure it like he is. I'm not strong enough to take it like he is. I sigh and wrap a blanket around him, guiding him back to the bed. I lay down next to him and clutch his hand in my own, squeezing it tightly. The shaking seems to lessen and his breathing calms. He's almost asleep.

"I'm proud of you, Tero. I really am, though the only reason I'm even admitting it is because I know you can't hear me."

I pause and hold my breath, waiting for a response. Nothing comes, so I continue.

"I know I would never be strong enough to quit. Not like you. Maybe once you're better you can help me too, because I know I can't do it alone. I don't want to be like this forever, but I don't know any other solution. Everything reminds me of Crisis. Everything reminds me of the arena. I know you can't understand that, but the fact that you try is enough."

I move closer to him and stroke his hair, pushing my memories of Crisis away as soon as they try to crawl their way in. I'm getting better at stopping them before they can hurt me.

"I probably love you," I whisper. "I don't want to. I wish I didn't. I'll never admit it to you or anyone else, but just for the record, you managed to find your way in. And I hate you for it. I hate you for making me feel this way."

I kiss his head and release his hand, deciding that I've had enough sappy confessions for the time being. Time to get rid of them. I don't want to remember anything that I told Tero.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and walk over to the dresser to grab another needle, hoping that this will be the last time.

_The last time. It's going to be the last time. _I tell this to myself every time I pick up a new needle. It rings in my head whenever I unscrew the lid of another bottle or tie an elastic around my arm.

But now, as I tap my arm to find a vein for the third time today, I know that I'm just lying to myself. I glance over my shoulder at Tero, who is still fast asleep. Guilt creeps into the back of my mind and starts eating away at me. _It's wrong. So, so wrong. _

Tears sting my eyes and I press the tip of the needle into my arm. Suddenly the door flies open, and I freeze, my needle falling to the floor.

"Where have you been all day? Why the fuck weren't you in any classes? And where's Tero, Brutus is pissed at him for-"

Clove stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes move from me to Tero to the abandoned needle and I can practically see the pieces all coming together in her head.

"P-please. Clo, please don't tell Cato."

With wide eyes she leans down to pick up the needle at her feet before turning around and heading for the door. Panic courses through me and I scramble to my feet and lunge at her, tackling her to the ground and pinning her beneath me. I drag my fingernails down her face and she screams in anger, before pushing me away. I am skinnier than her now, it doesn't take much effort on her part. I look up at her, half expecting her to walk away and end it, but Clove never walks away from a fight. Not until she's won.

She crawls over to me and pins me to the ground, pulling a knife from inside of her jacket and holding it to my face. Blood from the scratches on her cheeks drip into my eyes.

"Give me a reason not to do it, Audrina. I swear to God I will. I don't care if you're my sister, you haven't been acting like it lately."

"Oh, and you have?" I say, laughing bitterly, "You've hardly said two words to me since I got home."

"And how could I? You're either fucking Tero, wasted, or too strung out to leave your room. I didn't know that until now, of course. I feel like an idiot for not realizing it though."

Her eyes darken and she presses the knife down, slicing the skin under my eye. I feel the warm blood as it drips down the side of my face. Clove laughs and removes the knife, standing to her feet. She looks down at me and shakes her head, tears brimming in my eyes.

"You're not even worth it," She turns to leave, but changes her mind and faces me once more. "I don't want this Audrina. This cold, depressed, shell of a person. I want my sister back."

I sit up and wipe the blood from my face, "Yeah? Well good luck finding her."

She bites her lip and tries to stop the tears from falling, but they do anyway. My heart drops to my stomach seeing my sister cry, and for a moment I consider going to her. We're supposed to stick together. We always have, we've always been there for each other. At one point we were all each other had. When our father would lock us in a tiny room with nothing but knives. When he would disappear and leave us without food for days. When he would get drunk and we would become his punching bags. For a long time Clove was the only person I trusted, the only person I was sure that I loved.

I open my mouth to say something, but she is already leaving. She storms out of the room, slamming the door behind her and causing all the walls to shake with the force. It crosses my mind that I may have just lost my sister forever.

The noise of the slamming door jolts Tero awake and he sits up, looking around the room in shock.

"What just- oh my God, your face!" He jumps off of the bed and rushes to me, sitting down and pulling me into his arms.

After weeks of holding it all in, I finally give into him. Tears stream from my eyes and sobs erupt from my chest as Tero rocks me back and forth, assuring me that everything will be okay. But he's lying. I know that it won't.

**Cato Rovati**

"Do it again, Cato."

"It's after midnight," I argue. I'm not one to complain, but I've been at this for hours.

My entire body aches. My legs feel like jelly. All I want to do is go home.

With a sardonic laugh, Brutus crosses his arms and looks at me expectantly.

"_Seriously?_" I groan, leaning down to pick up my sword.

"Do I look like I'm fucking with you?"

Reluctantly I position my sword and go through the routine again, smashing the heads off of all seven foam practice dummies in under ten seconds. Brutus clamps his finger down on the stopwatch before glaring up at me.

"That was two tenths of a second slower than last time. Again."

Anger boils up inside me and I let my sword fall to the floor.

"No. Fuck you, Brutus. I'm done."

"You'll never be a victor if you're not willing to work for it."

"Yeah? Well I've been working for it for eight hours. I'm going home."

Brutus gestures to the door, "Be my guest. Don't come back tomorrow though. I don't want to train someone who doesn't want to put the effort in. You're useless, Rovati."

Fuming, I pick up my sword and smash it into the nearest headless dummy, ripping it to shreds.

Brutus laughs and rolls his eyes, "Is that supposed to impress me?"

I throw my sword to the ground and storm out of the room.

"That attitude is exactly what got your father killed in the arena!" He yells after me, like I haven't heard it all before.

_____Useless. Weak. Failure. Lazy. Arrogant. _You're just like your father.

The words I've heard from my trainers every day of my life. Clove says that it means they believe in me. She says that they know I'm the strongest and that I have the most potential, so they're harder on me.

I nod to the guards at the front gates, who let me through without question. I break into a run, and find that I'm in Victor's Village in no time at all. I peel my sweat soaked shirt off once I'm inside, and use it to wipe my forehead. The house is silent, as it usually is when I get home. I go to the kitchen and pour a glass of water, hoping that Clove hasn't fallen asleep yet. I know she won't be though. She can never fall asleep without me.

I finish my water and pour another glass before walking up the stairs. I'm so stuck in my own head, Brutus's words playing over and over on a continuous loop, that I don't see where I'm going. Clove smacks into me with force, knocking me off balance and taking me by surprise.

"Shit!" I yell, as my glass of water flies from my hand and shatters on the wooden floor of the hallway.

"Oh my God! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Cato, I didn't see you!"

She leans down to pick up the glass immediately, her long dark hair covering her face.

"Clo, it's okay. I'll get it," I bend down next to her and begin to pick up the pieces. Her hands are shaking and she keeps dropping the pieces. I notice that one piece has droplets of blood on it.

"Are you okay? Did you cut yourself on the glass?"

She shakes her head in silence and turns her face away from me. I drop the glass and push her hair away from her face, revealing three gashes running down each cheek, dripping with blood.

"What the hell?" I grab her roughly by the arm and pull her to her feet, taking her face in my hands as I examine the cuts, "What happened?"

She shakes her head, refusing to say a word.

"It's not funny, Clove. Tell me what happened. Who did this to you?"

I stare into her hazel eyes, only now realizing that they are brimming with tears. One spills out and falls down her cheek, mixing itself with the blood. I pull her closer, crushing her against my bare chest and she begins to cry harder.

"It's okay, baby. Just tell me what happened." I rub her back soothingly, but she shakes her head, wrapping her arms tightly around me.

"No," she says, her voice cracking with her tears.

"Why not?"

"You're gonna get mad."

"Mad? Why would I get mad? At you?" I push her away and grip her shoulders, so I can look at her face, which is now red with tears and blood.

"No," she says, averting her eyes from mine.

"At who then?" I demand, shaking her slightly.

"Aud-Audrina," she chokes out in a whisper.

Panic and anger surges through me and I push Clove to the side gently, storming toward Tero's room, where I know she must be.

"Cato don't-" Clove says, running after me, but I ignore her, throwing open the door.

Audrina is curled up on the floor next to Tero, who seems to have just woken up. There is blood spilling from a huge cut under her left eye.

"What did you do?" I yell, making my way over to her.

Tero moves in front of her defensively but I kick him away, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as he clutches his ribs. I grab Audrina by the arm and throw her against the wall.

"Typical Clove," she hisses. "Can't solve your own problems so you run to Cato to do it for you."

Infuriated by her words I hit her across the face. She spits in my eye in response. Keeping my left arm across her collarbone, I use my right to pull a dagger from my belt and hold it to her throat.

"I don't care who you are, or about everything we've been through. Tell me what the fuck is going on with you. Why did you hurt her?" I scream at her.

"What are you gonna do, Cato? Kill me? Crush me to a pulp? Do you honestly think it matters to me anymore? I should have died in the arena, we both know it. So please, be my guest. Just do us all a favor and end it now."

Her words shock me. Deep down I know I can't hurt her, not seriously at least. But in the moment all I want to do is break every bone in her body.

"She's doing drugs, Cato. They both are," Clove whispers, and the room is silent.

It makes so much sense that I almost laugh. How could I have not known? She's lost weight, her face looks sunken in and her eyes are always dilated. She's always with Tero, and they're hardly ever home. She's vague and distant whenever I'm with her. And everyone knows how readily available hard drugs are in District Two, especially to victors.

"So what is it, Drina? Morphling? Heroin? Meth? All of the above?"

She grabs my dagger with her free hand and throws it over my shoulder. From Clove's scream, I know that Audrina's impeccable aim has not failed her. She hit her target.

I grab her wrist and twist it in anger, feeling the bones crack beneath my fingers, "Let's see how well you can throw knives with a broken hand, shall we?"

"Oh, you have _got_ to be fucking kidding me," I freeze at the sound of Enobaria's voice.

Instantly I feel the familiar sting of a knife lodging itself into my leg, followed by a cool hand wrapping itself around my throat. Seconds later I am on the floor. Audrina sinks to the ground, holding her broken wrist to her chest. Clove rushes toward me and reaches to pull the knife from my thigh. Blood is soaking through her white tank top, and I can see that Audrina's knife hit her stomach.

"Walk away, Clove. If you even _think_ about helping him, there's a lot more knives where that came from."

Clove nods and backs away guiltily. Part of me wants to scream at her for not helping me, but I know that by doing so, she'll only get us both in trouble.

"I am so fucking sick of this. I should have known better than to convince Icarus to let you idiots live together."

Enobaria walks over to the dresser and calmly picks up the bottle of pills and the bag of needles.

"I don't really know who pisses me of the most at this point. Tero, why do you have drugs in the first place? Oh, right. Because you and Rovati over here had the brilliant idea of stealing morphling from the hospital when the Games were on. I know everything, so don't try to deny it."

Clove stares at me with wide eyes and I have to look away, unable to bear the disappointment that is radiating from her.

Enobaria shakes her head and looks between all four of us: Tero, with his broken ribs. Audrina, white, mangled bones sticking out of her wrist. Clove, her chest heaving as she struggles to breathe through the pain of the knife wound in her stomach. And me, with a knife in my thigh that is more than likely the only thing stopping a steady flow of blood from my femoral artery. Enobaria knows it too, she knows where the knife hit me. It's why she had to threaten Clove. To stop her from removing the knife from my leg, which she knew would result in me bleeding out.

"Sucks to be you right now, doesn't it? When are you going to learn that you aren't indestructible? You play around with your lives like they'll never end. You threaten to kill your friends, your _family_. And where has that gotten you? Your lives are all hanging by a thread, and for some of you it's getting thinner and thinner. You all better figure your shit out before it's too late."

* * *

_You say that you love me  
You won't remember in the morning_

_You fall asleep during foreplay,  
'Cause the pills you take are more your forte  
I'm not sticking around to watch you go down_

* * *

**Author's Note: Surprise! Not only is this story about Audrina and the aftermath of her Games, but it will also be about Cato and how he turned into the Cato we saw in the book and movie. Clove as well, but Audrina and Cato are the main characters of this story. So let me know if you liked his POV and if you want to see more of it, and if there are any other characters you'd like to hear from!**

**Blog for this story, including character pictures and information: www . deadheartsnovel . blogspot . com**

**If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste DeWynter's Story**

**If you have a tribute in my SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story.**

**First chapter of YBR is now up! There's always a poll on my page and I tend to change it quite often, so go vote! **


	7. Sober

_I don't wanna be the girl who has to fill the silence  
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth  
Please don't tell me that we had that conversation  
I won't remember, save your breath, 'cause what's the use?_

* * *

**Audrina Prescott**

I wake up screaming. Screaming for Crisis because I realized I loved him when I watched the life leave his eyes. For Tero because I know he's in a worse place than me. For Celeste and Roman because I wish I didn't have to kill them. For Cato and Clove because I see their deaths in my nightmares.

"Shh, Drina. It's okay," Cato's voice is there when I wake up. Clove's tiny hand slips into mine and she squeezes it.

It's been one week since the incident that none of us choose to talk about. No one has been in Tero's room yet, and we all know that the blood is still there. We've resulted to sleeping on the living room floor downstairs. Gaven, Isobel and Ivy were forced to move back to their dorms. We haven't seen Tero since we were taken to the hospital, but we all know where he is because we've been there too. Enobaria brings us food every night, but it rarely gets touched. So, we brought down the heavy down comforters, the plush pillows, and the soft fleece blankets and we try to sleep here. Except that no one ever really sleeps. I'm always awake, shaking and sweating as my entire body feels like it's being crushed, stretched and maimed in the worst way possible. Sometimes Cato stays awake with me. His strong arms shield me from the cold and he tells me stories of his life before the Training Center. Sometimes it's Clove who stays awake, and we grip each other's hands and promise to never let anything come between us again. She tells me how she hospitalized one of the strongest Level Ten kids because he started a bet on who would end up killing me. She tells me how she envies my strength and I tell her that she's always been the stronger one. She asks me what our mom was like, and even though I can't remember, I make up happy stories that she can hold on to. Sometimes they are both too tired to stay up with me, and I realize that I learn more about them in their sleep than I could have when they are awake. It turns out that I am not the only one with nightmares.

Cato begs for his mother to come back to him. He tells her that he's sorry, and that he's too scared to live alone. Clove cries. She asks our father what she did wrong, and I can hear his reply in my mind. _You killed your mother, Clove. You're a killer._ She tells me that she doesn't want to go back in the dark, and I find myself telling her that it's only for a little while, just like I did when we were little.

Another week passes and I am finally able to sleep through the night. Not peacefully, of course, but I suppose the nightmares aren't as bad as the withdrawal sickness. Not by much, though.

Cato's leg heals first, and he has to go back to training. Clove and I are left alone during the day, and sometimes Enobaria comes to visit us.

"You know, you're going to have to come up with your talent soon."

"I throw knives, Enobaria. That's my talent. It's always been my talent. I'd be doing it now but, you know..."

I trail off, allowing the touchy memory to fill in the blanks. I glance down at my cast, pale white except for the words _I'm sorry_ written on it in messy black handwriting. When I woke up in the hospital Cato was sleeping in a chair near my bed with a black marker in his hand.

Enobaria sighs, "Yeah well, aren't we all. The thing is, President Snow doesn't consider it a very worthy talent. So you're going to have to choose something else."

I wrack my brain for ideas but nothing seems worth my time.

"What's your talent?" Clove asks, and I sit up attentively.

"Cooking," Enobaria says and Clove and I burst into hysterical laughter. "You would know if you had bothered to eat any of the food I brought you over the past two weeks!"

"Oh, you really cooked that? I thought it was from the cafeteria," Clove says, trying to regain her composure.

"That's insulting, Clo."

"I'm sorry, Enobaria. It was really good! I just don't really see you as the chef type."

"I'm not. Rather, I wasn't. I was completely pissed when Crimson told me I needed a talent, but you need to make the Capitol happy."

Her tone turns serious now and a chill runs through me, recalling our conversation on my balcony in the Capitol. I push it from my mind, not wanting to think about it.

"So," Clove says, nudging me with her foot. "What are you good at besides killing people, getting wasted and sleeping around?"

I scowl at her, but come to realize that I really have no idea what I'm good at.

"Give me some options and I'll pick the one that sounds the least painful," I say, turning to Enobaria.

"Drawing or painting, though you have to be careful about that one. You could write, but I wouldn't recommend it. The littlest things can be interpreted badly and you'll end up with a bullet in your head before you know it. I could teach you to cook, there's always music and dance," My nose crinkles in disgust and Clove starts laughing and I know we are both imagining me singing and dancing.

"You guys need to stop making me laugh, or this cut is going to rip itself back open," Clove says, resting a hand on the large white bandage on her stomach.

A feel a pang of guilt, but she nudges me with her foot again and smiles. I know all has long since been forgiven.

"Anyways," Enobaria continues, "There's always the superficial talents. We could call Mal down and have her teach you the ropes of clothing design. We could get you some makeup and you could practice on your sister."

Clove's eyes widen in horror and she shakes her head furiously.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to pass on that one too. What else?"

"She's pretty smart," Clove offers. "Is there anything she can do with that?"

"Maybe, but with the things running through her mind, I would stay away from it. She could get herself in some serious trouble with the ideas she has."

I frown at Enobaria, but deep down I know she is right. I know how fragile my own life is in the hands of President Snow, and while it doesn't mean all that much to me, I know that the real hold that they have on me is the ability to kill everyone I care about.

We're silent for awhile, everyone trying to think of something I can do that won't result in my death.

"Pictures!" Enobaria says finally, rushing to the kitchen.

Clove and I look at each other in confusion and get up to follow her. Enobaria is on the phone already, mumbling to whoever is on the other end. Clove and I both sit at the barstools and wait for her to finish. After about five minutes she hangs up and turns to us with a smile.

"Photography. I just got you a camera. It's the easiest possible talent, all you have to do is walk around and take a few pictures everyday. We'll filter them and blow them up and frame them, and there you go. You're an artist."

I nod. It sounds like the easiest and most painless talent. As long as I stick to basic things, like trees and flowers and stray cats, there should be nothing up for speculation. That and the fact that it requires the least amount of effort on my part, it's perfect.

My thoughts are interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, and fear surges through me. My mind races as I look desperately to Enobaria, trying to figure out who it could be and what they want.

"Don't look at me. It's your house, go answer it."

She gives me a push and I make my way to the door, pulling it open only slightly to see who my visitor is. My stomach flips and my blood runs cold as I find myself staring into the familiar chilling eyes of Icarus. Sighing, I open the door and step aside to let him in, knowing that I don't really have much of a choice in the matter.

He steps across the threshold without a word and makes his way to the kitchen. I close the door behind him and follow silently, taking my seat next to Clove at the counter. Enobaria offers him a glass of water and I send her a look of appreciation.

"So, Clove," He begins, glaring down at her. "How are you feeling?"

"Better. I should be able to come to class again next week."

Icarus nods, his eyes completely unforgiving.

"Well, you'll have a lot of work to do. You're very behind," He says, turning to me. "And you?"

"I'm going back when she does."

"And your wrist? I don't see how you can throw with a cast."

"I can throw with my left hand, Icarus. We all know that I am just as capable. I'll be fine."

He nods cooly and looks to Enobaria, "Very well. Enobaria, I'm glad you've had a relaxing break with these girls, but you're needed at the Training Center."

I see her lips form a straight line and I know she is biting her tongue to refrain from saying anything that she will regret. She stands without a word and makes her way to the door. With one last patronizing look at Clove and I, Icarus turns to go. I know I shouldn't but the words spill out of my mouth before I have a chance to think about stopping them.

"Icarus," I say sharply. He turns back to face me, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yes, Miss Prescott?"

"I think Tero needs to come home soon," I say, keeping my eyes locked with his.

"Yes. Well," He sighs, looking down at his watch. "We'll see."

He turns to leave and I force myself to be still and silent until the door closes. As soon as I hear the car drive away I turn back to clove, fuming with anger. She is prepared though, and she holds a sharp kitchen knife out to me. I take it by the blade with my left hand and send it flying into the wooden cupboard door on the opposite side of the room. It didn't hit exactly where I intended, but it was pretty damn close.

**Cato Rovati**

"Well, it looks a _little_ better," I say softly, lifting up the gauze from the gash on Clove's stomach and peeking underneath it.

"Really?" She asks excitedly, pushing herself up on her elbows to see for herself.

She scowls when she does. It in fact does not look much better. The crude stitches given by the Training Center hospital are still holding the jagged edges of her skin together. It is red and swollen and from what I can see, it looks infected. I won't tell her that, though.

"Oh, fuck you," she says bitterly, collapsing back down on her back and flinging her arm over her eyes.

"Sorry, baby. I'll go grab some more medicine," I say, heading for the bathroom to get the antiseptic that the nurse told Clove to put on it three times a day. I know she doesn't though, which is probably why it isn't healing fast enough. I'm the only person whoever does anything about it, and I know it's because she's too scared to look at the damage herself. Audrina won't do it because she feels guilty for being the one to do it to her.

I grab the small jar of medication and head back out to Clove, who has now replaced her arm with a pillow over her face. I unscrew the lid and scoop up some of the medicine onto my finger.

"Okay, sorry if it hur-"

"Cato, I know it's going to hurt. We've been doing this for two weeks and it hurts every time. Just do it al- _ow!_"

I quickly spread it all over the cut and cover it with fresh gauze. Once it's cleaned and taped to her skin I pull her white tank top down over it and move so that I am hovering over her, balancing myself up on my hands, careful not to touch her stomach. I push the pillow away from her face and kiss the top of her forehead.

"Now smile," I say wiping the tears from under her eyes with my thumbs.

"I wasn't crying," she says defensively. "My eyes just started watering up. But I wasn't crying."

I find it amusing how she feels the need to keep up the tough act around me, like she has to prove her strength. Like I don't already know how strong she is.

"I know," I say, brushing back a stray piece of hair.

"I miss you," she says after awhile.

"I'm right here, Clo," I respond, squinting my eyes in confusion.

"No," she averts her eyes from mine. "I _miss_ _you_, miss you."

"You wha- _Oh_."

She smiles at me and reaches her arms up around my neck, pulling my face closer to her's. I lean down to whisper in her ear.

"Well, you know. You might heal faster if you would start putting that medicine on three times a day like you're supposed to. If you had been doing that, well, who knows what we'd be up to right now."

She rolls her eyes and smiles, bring her hands up to either side of my face, "But I want _you _to do it."

I lean down to kiss her when the front door flies open loudly. I lose my balance and tumble off of the couch and onto the floor. Clove bursts into laughter but is interrupted by Gaven, who rushes into the room covered in blood.

"What the fuck?" I ask, scrambling to my feet and following him to the door, Clove is right behind me, holding onto my hand.

"It's Tero," Gaven explains. "Drina had the genius idea of breaking him out."

"Out of-" I say, my eyes wide with shock. No one has ever managed to get out on their own before. We usually just endure the pain and darkness until Icarus gives in.

Sure enough, on the porch is Tero, crumbled on the floor, covered in bruises and blood. Audrina is next to him with her arms around him, begging him to stand up.

"It's just a little further, baby. Come on, just a little more. You're safe, you're home."

He seems to hear her and stands up slightly. I rush to Tero's other side and help Audrina get him through the door. Gaven shuts the door behind us and Clove rushes to the couch and covers it with blankets and pillows for him. We lay him down and cover his shaking body with a heavy comforter.

We all go to the kitchen where we're out of his earshot, except for Clove, who stays with Tero to look at his injuries.

"Fucking hell, Audrina, why did you do that?"

"What was I supposed to do, just leave him? After all he's been going through?"

"Yes! We've all been through it Audrina, it only ends well if you shut up and stick it out. You _know _that."

She looks at the floor then, becoming silent.

"I asked Icarus about him this afternoon, he would have kept him in longer if I didn't do something."

"Audrina," I groan, running my hands through my hair. "Why? Why do you get yourself into these messes?"

"I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't leave him there and I didn't know what to do."

"Well now what happens in the morning when Icarus realizes that he's gone? He's gonna know it's you!"

From the way her eyes start tearing up I know that she didn't think this through.

"Guys, I have to get back to the dorms before room check." Gaven says, shifting uncomfortably.

Audrina turns and throws her arms around his neck, "Thank you _so _much."

"Anytime, Drina." He responds, hugging her tightly before heading back to the Center.

"You better hope he doesn't get caught. Or we're all completely fucked."

"Now what?" Clove asks, entering the room. "He's got burns, cuts, bruises and at least two broken bones from what I can see. We hardly have any medicine, we don't have splints, we don't even have ice for the swelling."

I turn to face Audrina, who has tears streaming down her face. It strikes a chord as I remember what I felt like when Clove was being held in Icarus's cruel torture device that is designed to prepare us mentally and emotionally for the arena. I remember how I couldn't sleep or focus or think of anything but how she must be feeling. I remember waking up from nightmares of her screaming for me to help her, and feeling powerless because I thought there was nothing I could do. I realize that this must have been how Audrina was feeling about Tero, and that she was brave enough to do the thing that I never could.

Sighing, I pull Audrina into my arms and let her cry against my chest. Gesturing to the phone, I nod at Clove.

"Call Enobaria."

* * *

_Ah, the night is calling  
And it whispers to me softly come and play  
Ah, I am falling  
And If I let myself go I'm the only one to blame_

* * *

**Author's Note: Some fluff for all you Clato shippers! ;)**

**Blog for this story, including character pictures and information: www . deadheartsnovel . blogspot . com**

**If you haven't already, I suggest you go read my story _Seventy One Years, _which serves as a prequel to this story.**

**Other _Seventy One Years _Spinoffs:**

**_When In Rome _by chuckesleaze: Roman Caulder's Story**

**_For The Love Of A Daughter _by The Silver Panda: Celeste DeWynter's Story**

**If you have a tribute in my SYOT, _You Better Run_, I will give your tribute (or the tribute of your choice, if you don't have one) ten points for each review on this story.**

**Go vote on my poll!**


End file.
